#damn gotta nurse them back to health and offer them a place to stay and become a trusted pillar of support for the rest of their lives

[stellisketches]

Y’know we give Aph a lot of shit for adopting literally everything that doesn’t have a parental figure within fifty feet of it but what about Garroth. That man brought home a baby wyvern and a half-dead unconscious person he found in the woods twice. Honestly it’s no wonder Aphmau is like that™, She probably got the habit from Garroth in the first place. She just thinks that’s what you’re supposed to do in those kind of situations.

[redhawtriot]

Sole Mates 🦶❤️🦶(Bakugou x Reader)

Tip Jar ☕- Not expected but always appreciated💞 

Part 1, Part 2

Part 3:

“Stupid Deku and his bitch of an ex-wife can die for all I care,” Bakugou angrily grumbled to himself as he threw his hospital gown away from him. He took to changing a lot more aggressively than normal as he tore on his hero costume.

He made sure to toss his gown in the designated clothes bin before storming out of his hospital room. His movements, however, felt robotic as the series of the day looped in his mind over and over again. He tried to pick the day apart piece by piece.

What was that kid’s name again…? His hag of a mother had called out to him a few times. Hiro…? No, that’s not it…

Bakugou’s concentration was abrupted as the sudden commotion of the hospital halls came to a sudden halt in his presence. The nurses all became deathly silent as he marched passed them. He felt their wide eyes trailing his every move like deer watching a predator.  

The man scoffed, “The hell are you staring at.” He said very lowly, causing the hoards of people to promptly avert their gazes, returning to their activities.

As soon as he walked out of the hospital, he was swarmed by a barrage of news outlets,

“Ground Zero! Do you have underlying health issues you’re not telling us about!? You seemed to pass out out of seemingly nowhere!”

“Mr Ground Zero! Are you familiar with Deku’s ex-wife? Were you pulled to the scene by personal relations?”

“Are you the reason for their divorce?!”

His face immediately shriveled up at the last question, “SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU BUNCH OF SCAVENGERS!” he screamed, causing the herd of anchormen/women to  instantly hush and part out of his way. He stormed past the terrified crowd as he grabbed his phone out of his pocket and noticed a few missed calls from some of his ‘friends’: Kirishima, Kaminari, and Jirou.

No doubt that they probably saw what had happened to him on the news. Fucking naturally. Everyone saw him faint like a punk bitch on the live television. Bakugou growled angrily— the grip on his phone tightening before he heavily huffed and began typing a contact name into his device.

He held the thing up to his ear after pressing call, “Hello? Mr. Aizawa.”

The other man gave a tired sigh, “Just call me Aizawa, Bakugou. You’re not in high school anymore,” he replied very flatly.

“I. know. that,” he forced through gritting teeth—a stream of more vulgar choice words threatening to spill from his tightened lips.

“I saw your fight from this evening on television. I am assuming you want to talk about it?”

“Tell me everything you know about bonding quirks.” He spat very hastily.

——————————————————————

‘Stupid Deku and his bitch of an ex can die for all I care.’ You felt the thought creep into your mind like an unwanted house guest—giving you slight pause as Izuku kept his hand firmly wrapped around your forearm.

You looked back up at the green haired man as he waited for you to give him some sort of response to his question, but words failed to make their way from you as you dwelled on Bakugou’s intrusive thought.

Die? We can read some of each other’s thoughts, feel each other’s pain, but if one of us were to die… would the other?

The thought sent a chill down your spine. The feeling of helplessness accompanied that chill until it settled into your tight chest.

No matter how much you couldn’t stand the raging furball of a man, the two of you would have to depend on each other from now on. Yes, whether you liked it or not, your paths had now intertwined with each other for an unpredictable period. You would need to find him and figure this out together.

You reluctantly found yourself grabbing Izuku’s arm and guiding it back away from you, “I-I don’t…” you prepared to decline his self-invitation; however, one look into his emerald eyes completely melted your resolve.

Seriously?

C’mon, Y/N. You are a whole fucking mother. If you can handle Koko’s adorable puppy dog eyes after an entire day of not seeing her, then surely you can handle this. You shook your hesitation away before opening your mouth to firmly speak up,

“Izuku. I don’t think that’s a good—”

“I understand that you’re scared about your situation, but I promise that we will figure it out,” he softly interrupted you, “Together… A-as friends of course,” you weren’t so sure about that part, but you listened to him as he continued speaking anyways, “I do have a few ideas of who to contact, and we can pull some of the street surveillance videos, and grab a witness or two to ask them what happened. We will figure this out—t-the bonded thing.”

You fought the heavy urge to roll your eyes, and settled for crossing your arms instead, “Well, do you have to be at my house to do that?”

“N-no, of course, but It would be easier for me to focus on this, plus my everyday work if I didn’t have to worry about switching Koko between the two of us every day,” he argued, uncertainty written upon his expression.

He so obviously just pulled that outta his ass.

‘Well, he never really was too good at hiding his emotions’ you sighed, “Okay....” you agreed, your eyes shifting away from his own, “...just for tonight…” you trailed off as you looked to your ex-husband’s brightening expression—instant regret filling your mind as your heart fell with his contagious joy.

The upbeat man immediately took to gathering up your belongings for you, excitedly chatting about how he was excited to see what you’ve done with your home, and how Koko was telling him all about how you changed the dining room into a spare office. And how you changed the spare bedroom into a playroom for her.

You listened to all these things that your ever so sweet child had told him from the other side of the bathroom door as you changed into some clothes that he had brought you.

Fuck. She probably tells him everything about your days. Does he know you don’t cook anymore? Damn, he probably does. He probably knows that you put her to bed early on Thursday nights so you can have conference calls with your global investors and everything-- more ammunition for his judgmental fire, “I gotta talk to her about privacy…”

“What did you say, Y/N?” he called from the other side of the door.

“Nothing, just thinking out loud,” you replied as you opened the door revealing Izuku’s flustered expression. He had brought you some of his spare clothes, and the sight of you in them after almost a year sent an unexpected surge of emotions to his heart.

“Uh.. um. T-t-the n-nurses said that we can go out of a back entrance to avoid the media swarm outside…” he finally spat out as he averted his gaze from you.

Damn, you had almost forgotten how he was basically a celebrity. He was climbing up the ranks towards being the number one hero after all. And his ex-wife was just hospitalized, probably on live news, “Okay…”

After successfully making it out of the hospital with little disturbance, You found yourself in Izuku’s car. Alone. Just you and him.

God, try not to think about it. Don’t think about it like that. For God’s sake DON’T—

“So this is the first time we’ve ever been alone like this since last year, huh…?” He suddenly broke the silence.

“…Yeah…” you trailed off with an uneasy tone of voice.

The rest of the ride pretty much followed this exact script: an awkward silence where you were practically dying internally, followed by him opening his mouth to spout some meaningless conversation, followed by you giving a half-assed reply and then starting the cycle all over again.

And a vicious cycle it was.

Soon enough, however, the two of you found yourselves at Inko’s apartment. Praise whatever omnipotence was listening to your prayers, because Izuku decided that he would stay inside of the car to keep it warm and running while you grabbed Koko.

You, of course, had your own key to the place since this was the usual buffer between you and Izuku. As soon as you began to open the front door to the apartment you heard rapid shuffling on the other side, shortly after followed by a high voice, “Daddy’s home! He’s back!”

You scoffed, ‘Mommy’s here too, brat,’ you spitefully thought to yourself before swinging the door open to scoop your daughter, who had run to the door to help you unlock it, into your arms, “Hi, my baby!” you cooed as you squeezed her small frame into yours. The girl hugged you back for only moment before going stiff,

“Where’s daddy? He said he’d be back tonight,” she whined.

“Oh, he did, did he?” That fucker had this planned the entire time! The sweet face and freckles did wonders for the man-- you gravely underestimated his plotting nature. Shit!

“Hi sweetheart!” you heard the schemer in question chime from behind you in the entrance, causing you to snap your head back in shock. You were met with an apologetic expression as if he wanted to say ‘I changed my mind, sorry.’

You took back what the fuck you mentioned about ‘whatever omnipotence is listening.’

“DADDY!” Koko snatched herself from your arms as she shuffled over towards Izuku. Her arm and leg prosthetics heavily clunked as she fumbled his way. She practically fell into his embrace as her foreign limbs tried to keep up with her excited body.

You heart dropped at the sight, settling in a deep pit of guilt at the bottom of your twisting stomach. You would never get used to seeing her struggle with her two prosthetics. You tried to hide the obvious discomfort on your face and offer a slight smile at the otherwise warming scene in front of you.

“Be careful, honey. You don’t want to hurt yourself,” Izuku warned your daughter, however the young girl was too busy fumbling with pieces of his hero costume,

“When I make my hero costume, I want it to be just like yours,” the five-year-old randomly spit out.

That pinge turned into full fledged heartbreak at her words. Izuku seemed to feel the same way as the two of you made eye contact with one another; however, as you opened your mouth to say something and break the thick silence, Inko walked in,

“Oh, good! You’re back! How are you Y/N, sweetie? You doing okay?! I saw the attack on the news! Of course, and then when Izuku called—”

“I’m fine, Inko,” you interrupted the frantic woman. She tended to over worry about things and work herself up. You guess Izuku had to get it from somewhere, “Thank you so much for watching Koko,”

“You know it’s no problem at all! We had dinner of course and washed up for bed already, so you're all set to go tonight!” she sang.

Both you and Izuku once again thanked Inko and as soon as you all said your good-byes, you headed back to your apartment. The drive there was much louder with a five year old in the back seat, however the conversation mostly stayed between her and her obvious favorite parent. It’s okay. You weren’t bitter. Not at all.

Izuku, much like he promised, found himself touring your apartment and commenting on little things you had changed here and there as Koko and him hung out for about a half an hour before she went to bed at around 11 pm. Sadly, that was her normal bedtime.

By the end of the night you found yourself drowsily plopping down onto your living room couch and turning on the TV to unwind. Ironically, around this time of night when you watched television, dramatic reality TV was what you found yourself absorbed into. Viewing people get wound up was the perfect way to wind down.

Watching a ho get dragged by her hair and seeing glasses of citrus vodka being thrown across dining room tables was just the relaxing conclusion that you needed.

And god, was that the understatement of the century! Koko was always a pain in the ass to get to sleep, but Izuku being there made it a lot worse! Eventually you stepped into the situation and put your bad guy pants on to help you put your foot down. Izuku never really was the best at giving the girl stern orders. She practically had him wrapped around his finger. Especially since her accident…

He felt the burden of guilt you supposed...

You were snapped out of your thoughts as Izuku came to sit down next you on the other far side of the couch. You immediately threw him a suspicious side eye; however, concluded that if he stayed way over there you would permit this intrusion.

Still, every now and then when you would look back over to the green haired man, he seemed to be inching close and closer, until eventually, here was less that a foot of space between you.

“Ughhhhhh,” you threw your head onto the hard back of the couch as you bellowed a loud, annoyed groan.

“What? What’s wrong?!” he inched even closer to you as his voice pitched in worry.

You snapped our head back upright to toss him a soft glare, “What do you think you’re doing Izuku?”

His eyes darted around your expression as if he were searching for the right thing to say “Watching TV...?” he hesitantly trailed off.

“Mhmm,” you deadpanned as you swiftly stood up from the couch, “I’m gonna head to bed.” Reality Tv night was ruined by his stupid broccoli head ass. You regretted letting him stay here in the first place. How could you have possibly thought that this was anything even resembling a good idea after everything that you two had been through?!

“Wait…” he called out to you has he jumped int from of your path. You angrily eyed the green flashes of light accompanying his body. You looked up to him with wild eyes—he knew how much you hated it when he used his quirk when it came to you.  He held up two apologetic palms to you as if he wanted to reach out but stopped himself letting them fall limply by his sides, “I just… this is the first time we have really talked in months. I know that I have already said this, but I am sorry… I shouldn’t have said those things to you. I think about it every day and if I could take it back I would. You know I don’t really mean those things.”

“Oh you mean the part where you called me a… hmm what were your exact words” you tapped your finger on the bottom of your chin in feign thought,  “A selfish bitch? Or maybe you’re referring to when you said that I was a bad mother?” You finally released your urge to roll your eyes.

“I shouldn’t have said those things,” he sadly repeated.

“Ya fucking think?” you dropped your head into a scowl, “’Night.”

“Wait. Y/N wait! Please. Let’s fix this right now,” he begged as he tried to keep up with your retreating form.

“Ummm, it’s a little past that isn’t it?” your voice carried higher in frustration as you continued walking, trying not to make eye contact him as you rushed toward the sanctuary of your room.

“No, I mean. I want to be close to you,” Izuku finally grabbed the courage to jump in front of you and place his hands on your shoulders, as if he were trying to steady you on the edge of a cliff, “Things just aren’t the same without you. We can be friends,” he promised.

Your faces were dangerously close to each other as he gazed deeply into your eyes with his pleading expression. You bit your lip in uncertainty. It seemed like minutes had passed by with the two of you staring at each other until you finally broke the stalemate, “Friends, huh?” you raised an eyebrow at the man before the distance between the two of you seemed to shorten ever so slightly.

It was still enough for Izuku to notice, “Y-Yeah,” he stammered as his eyes quickly shifted towards your lips and then back up to your eyes.

“Friends?” you softly whispered as the distance between the two of you shortened even more, as if by some magnetic force.

“Friends…” the words barely floated out of his mouth before your lips pressed softly against his. You pushed deeply into him and allowed the heat of the moment flow between the two of you, your lips moving perfectly against each other when suddenly, you ripped yourself away from him,

“You can’t handle being friends,” you spat, glaring at his at his clouded eyes. Your words seem to phase straight through him as he quickly grabbed your face once more and pressed his wanting lips back onto your own. You tensed up at first.

Since when was he so fucking bold?!

Despite every logical thought in your brain, you eventually fell into his warm embrace— melting against his familiar touch.

On the other side of town, Bakugou was also having a very heated night as he fought against a villain with meteor quirk.

“KACCHAN! On your left!!”

The explosive man immediately weaved to the right and only narrowly missed getting slammed by a flaming ball of rock. Most people in this situation would say thank you, however Bakugou was not like most people, “SHUT UP, YOU IDIOT!! I saw it coming! Also, call me that again if you wanna get set on fire!”

“I see you’re still the same…” Kaminari trailed off before shooting a line of lightning toward the villain.

Bakugou gave slight pause, “Why the fuck wouldn’t I be dumbass?!” he barked.

“You know what they say about near death experiences. They change a man. I guess it doesn’t apply to gremlins,” the other blonde smirked as he teased the short fuse.

“Shut the fuck up if you know what’s good for you, sparky!” Bakgou bellowed just as Kirishima came into the mix,

“Hey guys, we are kinda in the middle of a major villain fight, here! Could you save the bickering for later?!” he yelled before slamming his hardened fist into an incoming meteor.

“He started it!” Kaminari laughed.

“I’ll fucking finish it t—”

Bakugou’s threat suddenly paused as his face became bright red. Both anger and embarrassment accumulated in his cheeks as he flashed a furious glare behind him. Who the fuck just grabbed his ass?!

However, his face immediately fell as he found no one behind him.

That’s when it hit him like a meteor—the bond. That fucking bitch must be slutting it up!!

WAIT… she was with … does that fucking mean…?!

The man felt the sudden urge to through his entire body into a bleach bath.

Deku was indirectly copping a feel on his ass.

“DEKUUUUUUUUU,” Bakugou screeched at the top of his lungs as the redness in his face intensified by tenfold, “YOU BASTAAAARD!”

Do you keep going with Midoriya?? or slam the breaks??

YOU DECIDE!

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[scribbling-stiks]

Retrievers - XXVIII - Cheap Drinks

Russia stands at the wall, feeling almost stuck. He could sense America on the verge of a breakdown, but he's sure that most of them were. And with America busy comforting Massachusetts, Russia wasn't sure there was anything he could do.

'I wonder where Dixie went.'

Russia stands a little taller and begins to walk through the house when color catches his eye from outside. He stops and looks a little closer to see Dixie walking a few steps into the path, hidden from most of the windows.

Russia walks out the back door and is surrounded by sounds of the outside. The air is crisp, but not unpleasant. Then he catches a whiff of cheap alcohol in the wind.

'I wonder if I could have some.'

He walks closer and sees Dixie tucking himself into the grove of a large tree, his back to its bark and to the house itself. He's holding a bottle of wine that's already half empty. Russia takes a seat next to him, tucking himself as best he could into the underbrush.

"Hey Ruski," Dixie says. His voice sounds so tired.

"Hello," Russia replies.

"Got a reason you're out here?"

"I was looking for you."

"Me?"

"You're important to America. And I was worried when you left."

Dixie laughs dryly. He throws his head back and drinks from the red-stained bottle. Russia watches in longing. Dixie catches his gaze and offers the bottle. Russia accepts the offer and takes a few mouth fulls before handing it back. It tastes stale and bitter, but it's better than nothing. Dixie laughs.

"Yeah, I know it's pretty cheap, but it's all I had in the house not for medkits."

Russia hums. Dixie sighs, and he slumps over, his head hanging in defeat.

"Can I tell you something?" Dixie asks.

Russia nods.

"I didn't always have this," Dixie starts, waving the bottle around, "this family. Any of it. Technically, I'm supposed to be dead. Hell, I tore 'em apart and nearly tore the country in two. Amy just didn't have it in him to kill me. Sometimes, I think he should have."

Russia bites his tongue to keep from commenting.

"And I promised myself I would protect them if they ever let me stay. And they did. Honestly, Amy is far more forgiving than he should ever be. And the states warmed up to me, which I thought was impossible, you know? I nearly killed Kansas and Missouri. I sent them to death's door."

Dixie sighs and takes another drink.

"And they forgave me. I didn't deserve it. Never did. Still don't. Amy really should've left me to rot in that damned hut. Hell, I was already half-dead when he found me."

Dixie laughs dryly and wipes his face with the back of his hand.

"I don't know what he saw in me that made him want to do a thing. At that point, I hadn't eaten or drank anything 'cept for binging on alcohol for so long, my stomach couldn't handle any real food for a while. And even then, he tried so hard and practically nursed me back to health. And somehow, he convinced the kids to help."

Dixie takes another drink and chokes. Russia looks away while Dixie coughs for a second to let him regain his composure, at least, what was left of it. Once his coughing calms down, Dixie continues.

"I don't think the crumpled-up apology letters I was surrounded by really helped my case much. Most of 'em weren't even readable. Too covered in tears and booze."

Dixie huffs a forced laugh, though it never comes to fruition. He lets out a heavy sigh, and Russia puts a hand on Dixie's shoulder. Dixie's shoulders start to shake, and he starts crying. Russia sat quietly, not sure what to do but offer his company.

"Now, I've been tryin' so God damned hard to try to protect them like I promised I would. But I can't. I can't!"

Dixie holds his face, even with the neck of the bottle still pressed in his palm. His breathing labored and his voice shakes.

"I can't ever seem to do enough. At least when I was being tortured, Tex and Netti didn't need the same treatment, but I... they shouldn't've had to seen it. None of those kids should have to deal with this..."

"You shouldn't have to either," Russia says.

Dixie laughs a little and elbows Russia gently. His eyes are filled with tears, and his cheeks are shiny. Dixie forces a smile.

"I don't think you get it, Ruski. I definitely deserve all the pain this world throws at me. The kids don't deserve any of it," Dixie says, his tone one of forced, cheerful optimism.

Russia shakes his head. Dixie's smile falls to a haunted grimace. He brings the bottle back to his mouth and drains the rest of its contents. Russia sighs and pulls his hands away.

"Can I tell you something?" Russia asks.

"Shoot," Dixie replies, placing the bottle aside.

"None of this is fair. The states don't deserve it, but neither do you. Or Meri, or anyone else."

Dixie scoffs.

"Would Meri think you deserve it?"

"No..." Dixie admits, looking away.

"So I don't either," Russia says confidently.

Dixie mumbles and stares at his hands.

"We are trying our best," Russia says reassuringly, "and if we weren't, some of the states would already be gone."

Dixie sighs shakily.

"I guess you're right."

"We are all here," Russia says.

"Heh, mostly thanks to you," Dixie retorts.

"...you are the only reason Amy is willing to leave and do anything," Russia mentions.

"What?"

"He trusts you," Russia explains, "and trusts you to protect them."

"Maybe he shouldn't."

"Why not?"

"Well, I... he just shouldn't."

"Well, that's not a very good reason," Russia says jokingly.

Dixie laughs loudly. He hunches over and cackles. Russia smiles.

"To think you didn't have a sense of humor," Dixie stammers out.

Russia smirks. Dixie takes a few moments to collect himself and offers Russia a huge, teary smile.

"Sorry for punching you," Dixie says, looking away and running a hand through his hair, "I was too quick to judge."

Russia laughs a little.

"It's okay. I deserved it."

"Hey!" Dixie says, punching Russia's shoulder, "if I ain't allowed to say that, you ain't either."

Russia rolls his eyes.

"'Sides, you did what you had to," Dixie says with a shrug, "no way around it."

Russia forces a soft laugh, and he sits back. Looking around, he sees the sky light up with the sunset.

"We should head inside," Dixie says, pulling himself up against the tree.

Russia stands. Dixie wades forward, and Russia follows behind him. Dixie tosses the bottle into some recycling bins and circles around to the back of the house. Dixie opens the back door, and Russia suddenly finds him in the middle of a hug. Then, as soon as it had started, he's released, America hugs Dixie.

"You guys had me worried," America says, releasing Dixie.

"You don't gotta worry 'bout us," Dixie says with a smile, "Ruski and I actually get along pretty well."

America grins wildly. Then, his face falls.

"Can I borrow Rue for a few minutes?"

"Go for it," Dixie says, backing up.

America grabs Russia's hand tightly. Russia looks over and sees America's mask of a smile slipping away. Russia can't help but pull America by his shoulders into his chest. America tucks his face into Russia's stomach.

~

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[twdeadfanfic]

Golden Cage, Pt.1

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary:  The reader is one of Negan’s wives, kept against her will in the golden cage that is the Sanctuary. When they brought Daryl in, she can’t take to see more suffering, and she tries helping him, until she gathers enough courage to ask him to help her run away from there. 

Set in season 7, 8 and (sort of) 9. Angst, Hurt/Comfort, there’s some fluff in here sometimes too, and also language, violence, and all those twd kind of things.

Disclaimer: For me, and as much as I love the actor and I think him an interesting character, Negan is a villain, and in this story, he’s certanly the villain in Reader’s life. So if you don’t like to see portrayed Negan like that, then please don’t read instead of sending hate...

Chapter 1/24 Updated twice a week, posting Monday and Thursday

If you want to read more of my Daryl Dixon stories (long series, mini-series, one shots...) check my MASTERLIST on the description of this blog.

My new long series, I hope you all will enjoy it, let me know your thoughts. Let’s get to it!

.....................................................................................

You rushed to the infirmary, ready to do your job. Negan and his Saviors had just come back and you’d heard they were bringing someone injured, though you didn’t know if it was a Savior or someone else who they’d gone to terrorize. For whoever’s sake, you hoped it was one of Negan’s.

Rushing into the infirmary, you didn’t miss once again how inconvenient and plainly silly was to work in there and help the doctor while wearing that fancy, little black dress and high heels. You really needed to sit down and tell Negan you needed working clothes, but whenever you brought it up he drove the conversation to wherever he wanted it. As always.

You knew you should be grateful, you were the only one of Negan’s wives who had a job besides pleasing the man, but still, there was so much more you wanted to be doing, so much else…

You knew that the reason why you were allowed to work was that you were a nurse, the only one in the Sanctuary somehow, so you were beyond useful working on something else that wasn’t looking pretty and warming a bed, especially when you first arrived and they still hadn’t got a doctor.

You also knew that being a nurse was the reason why Negan had set his eyes on you in the first place, when he first came to terrorize your little community, in which you’d lived since the beginning. Negan had made an offer, the community would collect stuff for him and he’d let them keep living there peacefully, but also you needed to go to the Sanctuary and work there.

The deal was made and you moved to the Sanctuary, where they still hadn’t gotten anyone with medical training, and began working as a nurse. That was only at the beginning though. Negan had soon started to drop comments about how your people didn’t collect enough stuff, how he should do something about it…how maybe promoting you to be his wife could help the situation…and so you’d married the man, but had been allowed to also keep working.

That had been quite a while ago, and by now your little community was gone. Negan said it wasn’t him but walkers. You never knew for sure, and you weren’t sure you wanted to know. Nothing forced you to be his wife and his nurse now, but you didn’t know what to do. You’d never been anything but a nurse, not even in your community, you weren’t sure you could survive out there on your own.

Besides, you knew Negan wouldn’t let you go. Maybe he wouldn’t care about losing a wife, he had several, though something told you it’d hurt his pride, but he’d never lose a nurse. You guessed you could maybe divorce the man, he always said you all were free to not be with him if you didn’t want to, but none of the wives had ever done that, and you weren’t eager to be the first and find out what Negan might do about it.

Especially not now…

You focused your mind back to the present and to the man that was being dragged into the infirmary by Dwight, who pushed him roughly onto the gurney. The man was covered in sweat, his skin pale and hot. He’d been shot on a shoulder and you could see he’d lost blood. You weren’t sure if he was conscious or not, his eyes were open but he wasn’t saying anything, wasn’t moving.

“Just make sure he doesn’t bleed out, but nothing else. He hadn’t earned it yet.” Dwight was instructing the doctor.

“We have to remove the bullet, clean the wound and make sure it doesn’t infect, suture it probably, bandage it properly, probably we should keep him here for the night, and he’s lost some blood, so…” You began to list and Dwight shook his head.

“Only thing you have to do is make sure he doesn’t die. His arm can fall off for all we care, but he has to stay alive.”

You glared at him, wondering where the man who’d been one of your first and only friends in that place had gone, because you couldn’t see it on him anymore. The doctor began working on removing the bullet from the man’s shoulder, not anesthetics or painkillers, as they seemed to want the man to suffer too.

You could see the man trying not to make a sound, seeming like his mind was far away from there, but when the doctor began removing the bullet, he couldn’t help but cry out. You hated it. It was cruel and unnecessary, but you knew you couldn’t do anything about it. Still, as you held him still, you reached out and took the man’s hand, squeezing it tightly, hoping it’d be even a tiny help.

When the doctor finished, you thought the man was unconscious, but when you went to brush his long, wild hair out of his face, wanting to see if they had hurt him anywhere, he flinched away from you.

Once the doctor assured the man wouldn’t bleed out, Dwight dragged him out of there. You followed him towards the cells at the basement, where he pushed the man into one, and you watched as he unceremoniously ripped the clothes off the man. You wished you could do something, but you didn’t know what, and you knew these were Negan’s orders, though Dwight seemed to be enjoying it.

“He’s going to die of an infection,” you said when Dwight locked the door behind him, leaving the man inside the cold darkness of the small cell.

“That’s up to him…he joins us? Then Negan will give him anything he needs. He doesn’t…” Dwight shrugged, talking loud enough for the man to hear him through the door. “Then he dies in there. Negan really wants him, though, so Daryl here only has to play his cards right.”

“Who is him? What happened?” You only knew Negan had gone to talk with a new group of people…this was his way of talking, you knew.

“Ask your husband.” Dwight began walking away.

“I can’t, he’s busy with your ex-wife.” You snapped. You knew it was cruel, but you were mad at the man. Dwight didn’t say anything, just kept walking away.

*

You’d lied to Dwight, Sherry wasn’t with Negan, and you went to tell her everything that had happened. You knew she could see how Dwight had changed too, but you also knew she still loved him. Apparently, she’d met Daryl, the prisoner, before, somehow. He’d helped her, her late sister, and Dwight, that time they tried to run away. And to repay him, Dwight had robbed him. You decided not to comment on it.

Later that day, you dared to bring up the matter to Negan as you found yourself in bed with him, asking him what had happened with that new group. He prided himself in not lying to you, though you were pretty sure he was giving you an adultered version of what had gone on. It involved murder anyway, two people of that new group had died. As Dwight had said, he wanted Daryl to work for him, and apparently, he needed to break him first or whatever.

“If you really want him then you should let the doctor tend to him,” you tried to reason. “That wound looks pretty bad. On the worst case, he dies in there of infection and the only way you have him working for you is as a walker. Best case, you have him working for you with a messed up arm…”

“Damn doll, you really trying your best on this. Gotta love that sweet heart of yours.” Negan gave you one of those smiles that made you shiver because you couldn’t depict if there was something hidden behind. “Or is it that you like them with long hair and covered in dirt now?” He chuckled.

“Yeah, sure.” You scoffed, shaking your head as you tried to look amused and not let your nerves betray you. Not because you were interested in the prisoner like that, but because if Negan might just suspect it, you didn’t think things would go well for you. He was possessive of the things he owned, whether he cared for them or not. “Just concerned about someone’s health. I’m a nurse, you know?”

“Alright then, sweetheart, you win. The doc can check that shoulder that has you so worried tomorrow. Anything for my girl, you know I can’t deny you anything, you’ve become the spoilest wife.” He smiled like that again and you forced yourself to smile back and stop the shiver that ran through you as he pulled you closer to him.

*

You wondered if maybe Negan had been lying, but the next day he walked you into the infirmary where you found Daryl sat down on the gurney, the doctor tending to his shoulder, Dwight next to him.

“See, this is what you could have if you join us,” Diwght was saying to Daryl, and you rolled your eyes when you saw he was wearing the winged vest he’d stripped off the other man. “Negan treats his workers right.”

“I do.” Negan grinned, dangerous gaze fixing on Daryl, who was silent and looking at the ground. “Although you have to thank my sweet wife for this, I wanted to wait for a few days until we treat you with this. But she has a gentle heart, you see.” Negan wrapped an arm around your shoulders and you tried not to squirm, it always made you uncomfortable when he claimed you as his wife in front of others. Which he did as much as he could.

Daryl’s head was still hanging low but you thought you noticed his gaze shifting up briefly to you, but then he was looking at the ground again.

“So what is going to be, Daryl…Daryl, it sounds right, doesn’t darling?” Negan smiled at you and you just nodded. “You joining us?” Daryl was still silent and looking down, and Negan let out a sigh. “Alright then. Dwight, drag him back to his hole.” His arm was still around you and he walked you to the door. “Sorry, sweetcheeks, you tried.”

*

You didn’t see Daryl again for two days. You knew Dwight still kept him in that cell, fed dog food if he was fed anything, having a song playing again and again so he couldn’t rest…it wasn’t the first man Negan kept prisoner, but he was trying his hardest with this one.

You couldn’t believe you were part of this. You shouldn’t have said yes to Negan when he asked you to be his nurse, you should have died with your people, but you were trying to protect them.  But they had been gone for months now and yet you still were there…you were scared Negan would kill you if you tried to leave, and you might be a coward, but you never dared to try, especially not after what happened to Sherry and Dwight.

You were walking back to the wives’ rooms after doing some routine check ups to some of the workers, when you saw Daryl being dragged by a couple of Saviors, led by Dwight. He seemed unconscious and like he had taken a hell of a beating.

“What the hell happened?!” You rushed to them, but you stopped before you could get too close and check on Daryl, the way in which one of the Saviors looked at you making you take a couple of steps back.

You knew they wouldn’t hurt one of Negan’s wives, especially not you now, they’d be punished, but still…Some Saviors, not many, were there because they didn’t know what else to do,  but others looked scary and dangerous, and seemed to truly enjoy their job. That was one of them. You looked as they dragged Daryl back to his cell, feeling like an useless coward.

You waited until you thought none would be around and then you made your way to Daryl’s cell, finding Dwight not far from there, keeping his eye on it.

“Tell me what happened,” you demanded.

“He tried to escape, he was caught.”

“Tried to escape? You can’t even close a cell properly now?” You spat.

“We left it open on purpose, Negan’s idea, see what he would do, teach him a lesson if he tried to escape.”

“Did any of you really think he wouldn’t try to escape?!” You scoffed, you couldn’t believe it. “Do you see what you’re doing to him here?!”

“Why do you yell at me, it was your husband’s idea, go yell at him, come on.” Dwight raised his eyebrows at you, he knew you wouldn’t and you knew it too. “Pretty sure Negan knew Daryl’d try to escape and was hoping for it.” You felt sick to your stomach but decided not to say anything else about it.

“Let me check him, I’ll grab a first aid kit from the infirmary.”

“No.”

“Yes. He looked half dead.”

“He’ll survive. Negan wants him like that. And I’m close to breaking him.”

“When did you become a monster too?” You glared at Dwight, feeling a lump in your throat at all that cruelty. You knew Saviors were bad, even though you had been pretty sheltered from it all, but still, you couldn’t believe they’d treat a person like that. “You’re going to let me check on him or I’ll tell Negan about those meetings with Sherry on the corridor.”

They did nothing but talk and smoke, but still, you knew how Negan would react. You’d began covering for Sherry since she became a wife when she wanted to talk to Dwight, and eventually you’d ended up doing it for other wives who had a boyfriend or a husband outside too. You liked to help, but it was stressful. You’d never thought you’d hold it against any of the other women, use it against them, and there you were…you felt awful, but you didn’t know what else to do.

“You wouldn’t do that to Sherry.” Dwight shrugged as if he didn’t care, but you could notice him getting nervous.

“I’ll say it’s you who won’t stop coming and wouldn’t let Sherry alone until she talks to you…” You bluffed.

“Negan won’t believe you.”

“Okay, let’s find out.” You turned to walk away and Dwight grabbed your arm.

“You think you’re on a high horse but you’re as bad as him,” he spat and you tried not to show how that hurt. “You get in there, Daryl’ll kill you, and then Negan kills me.”

“I won’t let him hurt me, if he tries something I call for you.” You hadn’t thought about that, it was a good point, but still, you couldn’t just leave the man like that. “Let me in. Or I tell Negan.”

Dwight glared at you but finally he nodded. “Five minutes.”

“Ten.” You slipped off your heels and ran to the infirmary, bringing a first aid kit and a lantern. Dwight opened his mouth as if he were going to try and say something to change your mind, but then he just shook his head and opened the door of the cell, closing it behind you when you walked in.

...............................................................................................

And this was the first chapter! I’m sorry if they are short, I’m going to kept them short for a little while, and then they’ll become longer, promised! And yeah, Daryl and the redader didn’t get to speak, I’ll make you wait a couple of days for that, I hope I left you hanging! I kind of wanted to introduce her and the story, see what you think, so if you could let me know your thoughts, it would be lovely.

As always, thank you for reading, drop me a comment if you have time, and excuse my english and mistakes since it’s not my first language.

If you want to be (un)tagged let me know.

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[thornbolts]

Protecting Our Rears

Never should have signed up for negotiating. Lost as soon as we bought in. Legs feel like jelly. Hands feel numb. Mother of all headaches. Forgotten how pain feels. Rem tripped, dunking face-first into murky swamp water with a gasp. It flooded her lungs as she pressed off of her weak palms.

Rem stumbled to the hollowed roots of a giant tree. She pressed her back to the bark. Each breath gurgled. Rem slid the hunting knife from its sheath. One stab. The undead slid the blade between her ribs, puncturing each lung. Each lung drained like a stuck water balloon. Just let it drain.

She closed her eye. The old forsaken didn’t know how long she sat there in a dreamless haze. Everyone deserves rest, even the dead.

Her eye shot open as a scream pierced through the heavy rain.

Don’t sleep. Something always happens when you sleep.

Rem pulled herself up. Her pistol felt like an anvil in her grasp. Doesn’t matter. You hold it anyway. Someone’s in trouble. One. Two. Three. Four. Five bullets. Leave the last chamber open. Accidental discharge is a bitch. Move your damn feet. Feel like I’m dragging bricks behind my heels.

Doesn’t matter how much you stumble. Doesn’t matter how much you bump into the trees or trip over the roots. Doesn’t matter if you had your face stolen and can’t even talk. Fight.

Her eye peered through the rain, spotting a herd of the Aldmarsh undead closing on an upturned wagon. Ambushed. Another scream shrilled through the air. The golden eyes of a group of sin’dorei--Survivors. Save them. Raise your pistol.

The gunslinger pulled the hammer back and marked her targets. Two mindless. One’s legs were gone. A crawler. But they could still bite. Another mindless covered in moss and fungus. Infected by the marsh. And the last: A behemoth of an undead with a massive arm that was big enough to smash an abomination to paste.

Even if her mind was hazy, her body remembered what to do. Rem squeezed the trigger. The bullet homed in on its target, crashing through the skull and brain of the first mindless and splattering gore on the nearby bark. Before one of the sin’dorei could even gasp, the next bullet was already in flight. It slammed into the next mindless’ temple, chewing through the brain and lodging itself in.

Three more bullets. Pull the hammer. Align the sights. Squeeze the trigger like you’re giving a firm handshake. BANG! The bullet roared in unison with the crackling thunder. The crawler was already face-first in the dirt with a hole between its eyes as the forest lit up in a white flash. 

Do it again. Rem fired the last two, each bullet tracked its target like they had minds in their brass casings. The first caught the bright orange mushroom growing on the next mindless’ shoulder. It ballooned up in a bright red glow. BOOM. Guess those mushrooms were explosive. Tell the Hemlocks. The next bullet punctured through the final mindless. The glint of brass falling from the creature’s head glowed as the next lightning strike hit. Need more firepower.

The behemoth came charging in, toppling over trees like they were just sticks. Dodge. Rem threw her weight forward, barely rolling in time as the berserk mindless slammed into the tree that was previously standing behind her. It snapped like a twig, crashing into the grass with earthshaking impact. Legs still weak. Don’t need them to kill this thing.

As the mossy leviathan came stomping toward her, Rem raised a strange-looking steel barrel to the monstrosity’s face. Loira, Dr. Staton, I owe you both one. She squeezed the trigger. Shards of razor-sharp teeth sliced into the creature’s face, driving it back with a vicious roar. Time to finish the job.

Rem rolled to her side, pushing off of the wet ground and sliding one of the dynamite sticks from her bandolier. Can’t make a fire in this rain. Gotta improvise. The forsaken’s eye flared a bright purple. Shadowflame blazed through her arm, surging through the stick and igniting the wick. It hissed as she flung it at the creature with all the strength she could muster. The dynamite landed right in the monstrosity’s rotting mouth. Bullseye.

BOOM. Gore and mossy parts rained down as Rem closed her eye. She felt the Shadow leave her body as footsteps splashed through the wet mud. Voices. Those words are light, but they’re worried. I know it. That's Thalassian.

The forsaken felt herself hauled up. Too tired to move. Need to rest.

--

FOXGLOVE SCOUTING REPORT - FELO’LOTH VILLAGE SCOUT: REMINGTON THORNBOLT

Hopefully this letter makes it to HQ. I’m recovering in Felo’loth Village, or Flame Flower Village for anyone whose Thalassian is rusty. This place wasn’t on any maps. Managed to rescue a small family traveling by wagon. They hauled me back and are nursing me back to health. Thank the Shadow I know enough Thalassian to get by.

From what I can get from the family caring for me, this village isn’t large. Maybe a couple dozen folks at the most. They’ve been able to protect themselves with a barrier not unlike Bandinoriel found in Eversong Woods. They call it “Gerthas Cai,” or literally, “Rune Barrier.” With it, they haven’t been touched for years. Their rangers’ fighting fitness is admittedly rusty because of it.

They sent one of their messengers out. Hopefully the one meeting them can speak Thalassian. They’ve offered to guide people to this village as a way of thanks. I think we can work with them to help reinforce the paths along our camp. They seem relieved to know that help is here. These people don’t have much, but they’ve got good hearts. I strongly advise we take them up on their offer. They’re potential allies.

I’m gonna stay here in Felo’loth for a couple of days to recuperate. Fight took a lot out of me. I’ll rendezvous with everyone before the next mission.

[charlesxavirs]

Ohohohoh! Please, if you want to I won't make you I'm sorry- Stenbrough? That's my actual shit and I love it but if you for any reason I will be okay I'm so sorry I'm a literal mess.

okay so i’ve had this written for ages and i’ve tried to expand on it and write more but it’s just never really happened so i might as well just post it. hope you enjoy! read on ao3 )

Stanley Uris considered himself a man of many talents. He could recite well detailed spiel about any bird at the drop of a hat, he had got washing his clothes down to a precise science so none of the colours would even dare to run, and he had to admit that he was quite flexible, although he wouldn’t ever admit that on a first date. Yet, despite his vehement efforts, despite his dedication and despite his might, he cannot get fucking glitter out of his hair. He’s tried washing it, brushing it, even vacuuming it once with Eddie’s careful guidance. He dreads the days when it is inexplicably part of his routine, and he prays and prays and prays that he’ll be able to get it out of his curly locks come bedtime.

He never fucking does, though.

And so, Stan was in a foul mood as he pulled up in the parking lot this morning at precisely five minutes to seven. As usual, he was the second car in the lot and he took the time to count the binders on his passenger seat again before he gathered them in his arms, to make sure he had replied to any emails he had to and ran over his lesson plans in his head before stepping out of the car and making his way towards the staff entrance of the small elementary school.

Just as he had expected, Ben was sat behind his desk at the main office, looking bleary eyed as he sipped at his coffee and flipped through papers that Stan would ask about if it wasn’t so early in the morning and if Ben didn’t look so tired. Stan threw him a smile and waved at him the best he could with his arms full, a wave of fondness washing over him as Ben offered him a bright smile in spite of his fatigue, and he started his trek along the red bricked corridor to his classroom.

Stan had started teaching just four years ago, starting off with Kindergarten kids at Derry Elementary before moving to the fifth grade the year after, and he’s stayed there ever since. His psychology degree was supposed to lead Stan into the world of therapy, yet instead, he got pulled into early years development, which ultimately led to him training to be a teacher. His father was more than displeased at sudden change in career choice, hoping his son would be a hotshot shrink in no time, but Donald Uris had to admit that it was nice to have Stan close to home. He also had to admit that Stan was good at his job.

The kids loved him. They giggled at his sarcastic remarks, groaned at him whenever he set homework and were unafraid to come to him with their 10-year-old problems, seeking his fair judgement and level headed advice. Yes, Stan Uris loved his kids dearly, he even admitted to shedding a tear here and there when his classes finally left for middle school, and he’d be damned if they weren’t going to grow up in a safe and loving place. The thought of packing it in and walking the career path his parents had hoped he would pave after college was a tempting one when he came home with stack after stack of homework sheets and essays and school books, but the way the kids eyes would light up when they saw his neatly written praise on their last homework assignment was more than enough to quash the idea. In short, Stan loved his class, and his class loved him.

Stan pushed open his classroom door with his shoulder and blindly searched the cold wall with nimble fingers until they settle on the light switch, and he flooded the room with the white, artificial glare of the ceiling lights. He walked the well known path to his desk at the front of the room, reaching down to pick up a stray pencil by his chair after he set his folders down on the clutter free table. He took pride in his classroom, keeping it clean and tidy at all times. An untidy working space means an untidy mind, his mother had always told him, and he very much believed it to be true.

Over the summer, he had spent a full day painting new displays on the walls, changing the colour scheme of the room from light yellow to sky blue, penning sparrows onto the walls with help from Richie. All of his pencils had been sharpened, papers organised, glue sticks neatly stacked and reading books tidily arranged on shelves.

“You’re like Mary Poppins when she does all that clicky shit.” Richie had astutely commented, trying to snap his fingers for added effect, but he somehow ended up punching himself in the face.

Stan wished Richie took the same pride in his own classroom instead of giving Stan shit for doing so himself. Richie was content to replace the framed picture of Bill Nye above his desk with an updated snap and buy a new board pen every year. He loved his friend dearly, but he often wonders how he even became qualified to teach, considering he was a health hazard on legs, always tripping over chair legs or barely skimming the children’s faces when he got too animated with his hand movements. Stan had been teaching for a year longer than Richie had but he had known Richie all of his life. In fact, Stan likes to credit himself as the guiding force for getting him off his ass and into the workforce.

It had been a Sunday, when they were both Juniors at UCLA, and Stan was putting the finishing touches to his project for his Primary Education class. He was sat cross legged on the floor of his cramped apartment, blasting Abba, the ground in front of him covered in newspaper as he dabbed his project delicately with his one dollar paintbrush and paint. Everything was peaceful in the world of Stan, that was, until Richie bounded through the door in a whirlwind of neon colours and unruly hair, already speaking at one hundred miles per hour.

“Stanley the Manley, you’ll never believe what the fuck just happened. So i’m sat there, enjoying my weekly Dorito date with that weird guy down the street and- what the flippity fuck is that?”

Stan looked up at him, carefully setting his brush down on the newspaper and moving curls out of his eyes, following Richie’s gaze down to his project, standing sturdily in front of Stan.

“It’s homework.” Stan said, stretching his stiff arms above his head. “It’s a fish.”

Before he knew it, Richie was kneeling on the floor next to Stan, eye to eye with his papier-mache creation, staring it out with trepidation in his gaze.

“So I’ve gotta do a shit ton of consumer research just to have the chance to grace the airwaves, but all you’ve gotta do is make a fish?” Richie whined, sitting back on his heels and pouting at Stan. He reached out his hand to touch, but Stan quickly swatted it away before leaning back down to apply another coat of purple paint to his aquatic masterpiece.

“If you’re that bothered, why don’t you train to become a teacher, Trashmouth.” Stan chastised, ignoring the ‘humph’ that escaped Richie’s as he watched him paint. Stan never actually expected him to do it. He had turned up at Stan’s door almost a year to the day later, holding a handmade dog, wearing a bowtie and donning a kippah on over its curly ears. Stan had answered the door with a hand on his hip, eyebrow raised. Richie had only grinned, his cheeks turning red with the force of him holding back a laugh at his own joke.

“It’s a Cocker Staniel.”

Stan slammed the door in his face.

And now here they were, almost five years later, Richie running late as usual and Stan dreading the looming presence of glitter on his Thursday morning.

Parent-Teacher conferences were the bane of Stan’s existence. He held two every year, one in October while the kids were relatively new in the class and one later on in the year, normally before they left. Usually, the parents didn’t care at all or seemingly cared too much, berating Stan for things as trivial as how he worded homework sheets to the way he dressed. The sheer stress of such things meant that Stan spent the short hour between school ended and his first appointment with Eddie, the school nurse, drinking juice boxes with an ice pack held securely to his head while they chatted aimlessly and watched reruns of Judge Judy on the room’s shitty TV set. This year, though, was going to be the first time he’d handle the parents smoothly and professionally, and he certainly wasn’t going to have a breakdown in his store cupboard afterwards. No way.

He heaved in a sigh, revelling in the slight burn of his lungs as he drank in the air. It was getting closer to half past now, and Stan finally started to get into gear, setting up for the day, refusing to look at the offending vials of metallic crap until he had to. It was 8:55 when Richie finally pulled up outside, fifteen minutes later than he usually was, and he didn’t even afford himself the luxury of mithering Stan as he sprinted down the corridor, hands full of boxes and slammed his classroom door behind him. Richard Tozier was well suited to be a second grade teacher, Stan thought, considering he was a second grader himself.

He opened his door at 8:59, only just making it back to his desk before the whiny ring of the school bell flooded his ears and children started to walk through the door, unbuttoning their coats as they bid him good morning, groaning as they saw what Stan had written on the whiteboard, and Stan couldn’t help but smirk. If they were going to destroy his classroom and his life with pipe cleaners and glitter glue, he was going to make their brains explode with maths.

--

Stan was sticky by the time 4:30 rolled by. In an effort to make his class a bit more cheerful, he had allowed them to make name tags for their books and work so their parents could easily identify them that evening. He hadn’t, however, thought it was such a good idea when Timothy Jones had walked into him with a full pot of PVA glue, subsequently spilling it down his neatly pressed chinos, covering them in a shiny, brown stain that was going to be a bitch to get out. He couldn’t possibly greet parents looking like there had been an oil spill on his trousers, so in a last resort to gain some semblance of put togetherness, he went knocking on Richie’s door.

“Woah there Stanley,” he grinned as he cut what looked like a melted dinosaur out of a piece of blue card, adding it to a pile of similarly drawn jurassic creatures. “Looks like someone didn’t make it to the can in time. Say, I didn’t know you were into watersports.”

Stan didn’t dignify him with a response, instead sighing and muttering a halfhearted ‘Beep Beep’. “I don’t suppose you’ve got any pants, have you?”

Stan should have known to fear the worse as Richie’s face lighted up with mirth and he spoke to Stan with his Southern Belle drawl.

“Well, Sir, I surely surely do.”

And that’s how Stan ended up sat behind his desk, listening to parents talk about their kids as if they were the only ones on the planet, wearing a pair of hot pink yoga pants that barely fitted him, never mind Richie.

(“Where the fuck did you get these?” “They’re Eddie Spaghetti’s. I-” “Never mind, I’d rather not know.”)

He nodded empathetically as they talked about their children, resisted the urge to roll his eyes as they told him how to do his job, but under no circumstances did he stand up from the table. Propriety be damned, he didn’t want to be fired for public indecency.  He was almost done at five minutes to six, his schedule closely adhered to, and if all went well, he’d be in bed by seven. He only had one appointment left, and he let himself relax in his chair, straightening his papers and ticking off names as he waited.

Five minutes passed. And then ten. And then fifteen. It was quarter past six, and he was still waiting for his last appointment to turn up. A pang of annoyance gnawed at Stan. He had been preparing for this for over a month and the parents didn’t even have the decency to listen to him talk about their own kids, for God’s sake. Huffing, he started to pack away, stuffing sheets back into their binders when a ball of emerald and auburn and brown came charging through the door with a small boy in tow.

“I’m so s-sorry, I thought Noah’s mother was coming instead.” the man groaned, panting as he ran a hand through his son’s hair.

He quickly caught his breath and made his way in front of Stan, offering him his hand to shake. If Stan wasn’t so annoyed, he would have noticed the way his blue eyes sparkled or the warmth of his touch or the way his mouth quirked as he spoke. But Stan was irritated, so instead he shook the man’s hand and refused to look at him as he pulled his sheets back out. Stan quickly realised, though, that Noah was stood next to his father, grinning up at Stan.

He quickly softened, smiling back at the boy. Noah was a boisterous member of his class, yes, but he was polite and was quiet when Stan needed him to be and often had an amusing anecdote about his Aunt Bev and Uncle Georgie. Noah Phillips-Denbrough was a good kid, and Stan liked him very much.

“Hey buddy.” he greeted as Noah waved back, his grin widening as he shot back an exuberant ‘hi!’, almost shaking as he gripped to his father’s arm.

Looking at the pair now, Stan could obviously see the family ties. He had had a few dealings with Audra Phillips, and from what Stan could gather, she was a reserved woman who only seemed to speak when she was spoken to, quite unlike her son, who was rowdy to say the least. While Noah had inherited his mother’s swarthy skin and tightly coiled locks, it was easy to see his father in him. Their eyes both lit up in the same carefree way when Stan looked at them and the smile on their faces seemed to be permanent. That, and the blue hue of their eyes were almost identical. While Stan knew divorce often made kids shrink into themselves, Noah had done anything but, and he thinks Mr. Denbrough had been part of the reason why.

“Sorry we’re so late, Mr Uris.” Noah beamed, no evidence of regret traceable on his face, and Stan’s grin involuntarily widened.

“Don’t worry about it Noah.” he said, throwing him a wink that made the young boy dissolve into giggles. “Hey, why don’t you go and finish your drawing from today while I chat to your dad?” he suggested, and Noah didn’t have to be asked twice before he was sitting at one of the rickety desks and scribbling away.

Stan turned his attention back to the man in front of him, cutting him off with a wave of his hand as he tried to speak again, probably to apologise again. “Why don’t we get started, Mr Denbrough.”

“Bill, please.” he insisted, and the smile on his face had Stan repressing a blush.

“Okay then, Bill,” Stan didn’t miss the man’s chuckle, “Let’s talk about Noah’s progress so far.”

In all fairness to Stan, he was completely professional from there on in, only making eye contact when appropriate, never letting himself stray from the topic of Bill’s son, and he certainly didn’t let himself get excited when Bill pushed the sleeves of his dress shirt up to his elbows. Stanley Uris was a paragon of a teacher, answering questions thoughtfully and easily. So what if Bill’s appointment lasted twenty minutes longer than it should have, it’s not like Stan was counting.

It went so well, however, that Stan had ignored one huge, almighty, dirty big fat flaw. He had completely forgotten that nothing good ever happens to him, and sooner or later, it was all going to go tits up. Fortunately, he didn’t have to wait long for it to happen.

“Thanks a lot for seeing us, Mr Uris.” Bill had a smile on his face and his voice was dripping with an appreciation that had Stan blushing.

Stan waved his hand in front of him, turning to smile at Noah, who was once again glued to Bill’s side. “Thank you guys for coming.” He shot him a small wink, making the boy beam up at him.

When he turned back to Bill, there was a look clouding his piercing eyes that Stan couldn’t quite decipher, yet it made the warmth on his cheeks deepen further, and before he knew it, Bill was standing out of his chair, arm out in front of him to shake, and Stan was following suit.

He only realised what a huge fuck up it was when Noah burst into fits of giggles.

“Mr. Uris why are your pants pink?” he squeaked out in between laughs, clutching onto Bill’s arm to hold himself up.

Stan’s cheeks burned now, and he was pretty sure you could see him in the dark with the intensity of his blush. He glanced at Bill out of the corner of his eye, surprised to find that his cheeks were the colour of his pants, and he didn’t miss the way his eyes ran over Stan’s somewhat scantily clad legs.

He cleared his throat, the deep bass of his chuckle reverberating in Stan’s chest as he pushed a stray strand of auburn hair from his eyes. “The pink suits you.”

All Stan could do was limply shake the man’s hand, squeak out a pathetic goodbye and usher the pair hastily from the room.

He let his head fall with a thunk against the pink painted door as he shut it closed behind them. Stan had prided himself on keeping himself composed for the past five years, no matter how hard it was. He had people complain about him when his shirt sleeves were too short or when the amount of time designated to reading was deemed ‘questionable’. The way Stan was feeling now had to stop. Yes, he’d had crushes before, but never on a parent. It was hard enough for him being gay in Derry, it was even harder to try to be so and teach at the same time. The last thing he needed was a silly schoolboy crush to come along and wreck the order he’d created.

So, Stan did what he usually did when he’s had, what he’d consider, a stressful day: go home, eat a shit ton of ice cream and watch Say Yes To The Dress until his eyes melt.

Thank God it’s Friday.

[princettegil]

There's been something I've been meaning to talk about for a while now but it recently came to a head about a week ago and I've came to realize that the medical field is probably one of the most uncaring amd worst places to work for someone with mental illness! You'd think the medical field would understand, right? Nope! Out of all the jobs I've had, none have been this bad at working with me or helping with my issues. I won't go into detail about what happened but I haven't had much in the way of anxiety attacks in the last couple years (cept for a couple incidents.) All in all, I've been doing stunningly better! However, when I have a job I tend to have a lot more anxiety issues (no matter what the job is, it just seems to happen.) So I've had about 3-4 attacks since I started work at the beginning of this year at a hospital (working one of the lowest rungs that still deals with patient care.) But that's to be expected; I figured that would happen since it almost always does, but I was intent on trying to sticking it out this time. Now, I don't like pity - let's just get that clear right now. I don't like pity, I don't like bothering people, I try my best to at least be as good as my peers at my job and I absolutely abhor bothering people with my issues (be that mental illness stuff or standard job difficulties.) Basically, I try to hold my own as best I can and I don't like to mention my mental health issues unless it's clear they're absolutely becoming an problem. Well, first (technically 2nd but the real first was a very small and not full blown attack) anxiety? A nurse happened to be in the room with me and took me to the main office where they let me chill a little and transferred me to work with a less trying patient. That's good! That seems reasonable yeah? Though what they did I agree was a good move, the way the nurse (an RN mind you) acted towards me was... odd. You'd expect a nurse to be well trained with things like anxiety or panic attacks and know both how to help out and seem considerate, right? Well... you'd be very wrong! Though she wasn't mean she didn't seem to understand at all what was happening to me even after I told her I was having an anxiety attack. She clearly didn't know much in the way of how to help me calm down or even deal with me at all working on her floor. But whatever, maybe she was tired? Nurses work their asses off after all! Maybe she just wasn't well trained with anxiety issues? It could happen. I gave her a pass in my mind but noted how it was strange for her to be so seemingly uncomfortable with a simple anxiety attack, especially one of a coworker. My 2nd anxiety attack went mostly unnoticed and I dealt with it the way I normally do. Took a break to go to the bathroom and try to chill out, stayed there a bit longer than my break actually allows but made sure I was okay before going back to the patient's room to continue my shift as normal. At the end though I made sure to inform my supervisor that I could no longer work with said patient because he was behind my prior anxiety attack as well. They didn't really agree but that didn't disagree with me either that they'd make sure I didn't have to work with him again. Then the 3rd anxiety attack. The big one. The awful one. The one that really forced my realization. Like I said, I won't go into detail on what happened. Lots of things happened that night all at once and some caused serious issues but are unrelated to the topic of the hospital's treatment of anxiety attacks. But the stunning thing I did realize was just how non-understanding and non-accomodating my supervisors (years long medical workers, especially in nursing fields) could be. At one of my last jobs, though they ran everyone to the brink of exhaustion and stress (causing many people to quit around the same time, including myself) they at least we're kind when they realized I had anxiety issues. It didn't actually work out the way they promised but they were willing to work with me and make simple accommodations to help me out (like working in the back when the store got really busy.) They were also very understanding and assuring even though I was terrified that they found out. At another job, though I didn't stay long last the first month's training classes, they were also understanding and my trainer took the time to explain how she understood what anxiety was like and gave me plenty of time and space to calm myself down (we got along so well I even friended her on FB after I quit and she's still really nice to me.) Basically, my other jobs were understanding. They didn't pity me (thank gods!) but they were open, supportive, understanding, accomodating and those coworkers who had been through similar really helped commiserate with me which helped me feel more comfortable knowing I wasn't alone. The hospital I work at now? None of the above! They weren't mean mind you, they technically said just enough to make it so that I probably couldn't sue them for treating me differently due to my mental disabilities (I have no intention to) but it really did seem like they wanted to put in the bare minimum of care to make sure that didn't happen. Did they tell me how they understood that anxiety was difficult to deal with? No. Did they try understandingy issues? No. Did they ask or try to accommodate me (like helping me to find a more suitable job there or letting me know I could ask to switch patients if things got hard? No. Did they seem any bit empathetic or even sympathetic? No. They gave me time to calm down (though they seemed pretty ansy for me to hurry up and breath so I could talk or rather, listen to them.) They said they were worried a couple times (while seemingly sounding and looking like they didn't give a single shit and were simply required to say it.) Did they at all mention anxiety is a disability or offer any tips for dealing with it? Nope! Instead they told me, in only slightly prettier words, to suck it up, deal with it on my own, don't cause problems, and that it's only gonna get worse from here. Not exactly kind or what you'd expect from medical personnel huh? In fact, that's my main concern - it was MEDICAL PERSONNEL! I could see this with grocery store staff or call center supervisors and probably write it off as just being ill informed or more caring about the cash and not the employees. But... trained, licensed, careered RNs and nursing staff!?!? Staff that I KNOW have had to deal with and care for mentally ill patients of all sorts? Staff that likely occasionally have to help out in the adjoining psychiatric center!? People whose job is literally to care for other people!? This is what disturbs me! This is what concerns me! If they treat a fellow employee like this then how do they treat the actual patients with problems!? Look, I know nurses don't have it easy! I have both family and friends who are CNAs and RNs and I know some of the shit they go through and how stressful it is. Especially since starting a hospital job and seeing stuff firsthand, I have MAJOR respect for those that can do such jobs! You guys have to have balls of steel! No... platinum! Dear gods the shit you ppl go through! I can easily see why you'd be frustrated especially with a coworker who can't handle the shit you deal with daily! I get it. I can see why you'd snap at patients and even eventually experience burn out and stop giving a shit in general. Hell, I wouldn't blame you one damn bit! But I would hope most of that would be split decisions, heat of the moment type stuff. Not when you've had almost an hour to absorb what's happened and had plenty of time to think through what to do or how to act. If you treat your co-workers like this, how would someone expect you to treat your patients? Not one of the 6 jobs that I've had treated my anxiety issues THIS BADLY! I'm talking data entry places, places with tiny cubicles, telarmarketing places, call centers, grocery stores, RETAIL stores! If nothing else I'd expect at least understanding from medical field workers! My supervisors, even a few of my coworkers - did not only not seem to understand but didn't even care! I was told by one to pretty much man up or quit! And some of these people, I KNOW have either personally dealt with mental health issues themselves or know someone close who has. Even if you know the job is tough, even if you know it may get worse, even if you've personally dealt with worse - you can't even say something as easy as "yeah man, this shits hard, I get it."? If I ever mentioned how hard my night was, my coworkers in the group chat didn't even care enough to respond. I mean, I'm sure you've had hard nights too! Let's talk about it! Let's commiserate and complain together! There's over I of us on this shift and I know you all have gone through shit, let's let off a little steam about it! There's gotta be at least one of you who'd love to rant it out! I find when you complain together about a tough job it makes you feel better knowing there's others in the same situation. Just knowing you're not alone can help a lot! Heck, answering every question you know the answer to with "just call the supervisors" cause you can't take 2 mins to say something like "click the x button on the menu" to help a coworker is a bit extreme isn't it? That last anxiety attack I had suicidal thoughts for a short bit in the midst of the worst part. I asked my supervisors for any advice they might have (hoping they might share some of their 20+ years of health field knowledge) they ignored my question and sent me straight to the ER even though I told them I was fine now. I can see the reaction for legal reasons but they didn't seem worried about me personally but how it may affect my job. They refused to listen to me. I went to the ER. Sat there, had blood work done and answered a few questions about how I was feeling and they let me leave. Why? Because they had determined I was fine and no threat to myself or others, just like I had told my supervisors. They never did give me advice. But they did screenshot my phone to show HR. So no, I don't want pity and I don't want people to get super worried about me but I'm always worrying that I'll be fired because of my anxiety attacks and the least a supervisor or coworker could do is tell me they understand it's tough (the job or the anxiety) or give me helpful tips or listen to me or ask how they could help. But being ignored, told to man up, told to quit, treated like I was just a legal risk and quickly unloading me onto anyone else they could - that's not how you treat someone! Someone with anxiety, depression, mental illness, learning disabilities, young people, old people - ANY PEOPLE! And what's worse is you are MEDICAL STAFF! You should KNOW about this stuff. You should KNOW how to handle it! You should KNOW to at least act like you care! You should KNOW how to comfort or calm someone or make them feel comfortable and not just like a legal risk or a bother that you don't want to deal with! HOW TF DO PATIENTS FEEL ABOUT THIS KIND OF TREATMENT!? My managers are always complaining about inspections and how the hospital is rated by patients and why and how to improve our scores. Well, as someone who's been an employee and now a patient too, lemme tell you your main patient displeasure issue - YOUR ATTITUDE! I thought before that some patients were just asking too much of the staff but now I know that they were right. But it's not about getting your apple juice quicker it's about being treated like you're either just a giant thorn in their side or a pit of money! Maybe next time I won't ignore that survery phone call.

[buckyscrystalqueen]

Ohana: Part 2

Pairings: Negan x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, fluff

Word Count: 3,179

Part 1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Do you have anyone that needs prosthetics?” You asked Negan as you walked through the building where you had gotten your prosthetic years before.

“We’ve got a guy missin’ an arm. Don’t know what the fuck you can do with that.” You nodded as you pushed open the doctors office door.

“There’s enough information in here that I can learn how to fit a prosthetic. Won’t be top quality but it’ll be better than nothing.” Your eyes scanned the books on the shelves and you smiled slightly at the titles. “Damn this guy read a lot.” You mumbled more to yourself as you pulled out a book called ‘Procedure desk reference’. “This shit’ll come in handy.”

“Dwight! Come grab this shit!” Negan called out as you pulled another thick volume off the shelf titled ‘Physicians' Desk Reference for herbal medication’. 

“Have you guys checked out any doctors offices around here for supplies?” You asked as you handed Dwight the two books and turned to the desk.

“Didn’t think about it, honestly and Carson was fucking useless and didn’t suggest it.” You nodded as you grabbed the two tablets off the desk and yanked the power cords from the wall.

“Here’s a whole list of doctors that should come in handy.” You said as you grabbed the rolodex off the doctor’s desk. “I know he referred me to a psychiatrist, which means mental health drugs. I know this guy is an orthopedic surgeon and he did his surgeries in the same building his office was in, meaning he could have anesthesia. Oh, this guy is pain management and always had some good under the table samples…”

“Well damn, sweetheart. Who fucking knew that dealing with your crazy ass would be so fucking fruitful.” Your face deadpanned as you looked up at him through your lashes.

“Shut up.” You muttered as you closed the top to the rolodex and tucked it under your arm. “I gotta go find myself my new leg and see what I can bring back that could be useful.” With a simple nod from Negan, you dipped into the hall and headed down to the therapy room. You stepped around members of the crew, who were searching every single nook and cranny for anything useful, and headed to the room that housed all the prosthetics. 

You walked along the line to find the part of the shelf that had your name on it. You were supposed to get a new leg before the fall and dealing with it after wasn’t on your list of priorities after. With a smile, you pulled the polypropylene and titanium from the shelf and gave it a once over. With a nod, you tucked it under your arm and grabbed the new protective sleeve that came with it as a guttural growl came at you.

“Shit!” You shouted as you lost your balance and toppled to the floor on your ass as one of the dead techs landed beside you. You scooted out of his grasp a little too late and he wrapped his hands around your old prosthetic finally breaking the pylon off the socket. You yanked your stump free and grabbed a limb off one of the shelves.

“Swear to fuck.” You shouted as you ripped off the hand with inhuman strength and stabbed the deadie in the head. Dark brown blood splattered the room as you continued your assault. “Not today, mother fucker. Not- to- day.” When you were sure the asshole was completely dead, you shouted ‘Ooorah’ at the corpse and laid back on the floor with a sigh only to look up at Regina, Simon and Negan.

“I take it back.” Negan said. “Bitch can fucking protect herself.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hell does that even say?” You asked yourself as you squinted at the God-awful handwriting later that night as you tried to organize Dr. Carson’s notes into some semblance of order. After a moment, you gave up trying to figure out the scribbles and added it to the growing pile of ‘unknowns’ on your bed to your left between you and your sleeping daughter. You grabbed the  next page off the stack as someone knocked softly on your door.

“Yep.” You called out as you added the crumpled up paper to Cam’s pile and looked up at the door. You gave Negan a weak smile as he glanced down the hall before dipping into your room and closing the door behind him.

“How’s it goin’?” He asked as you grabbed the next piece of paper; a paper towel.

“If this man wasn’t already dead, I’d kill him out of principle for being a shitty doctor.” You added the note to Isabelle’s pile and grabbed the next one. “And on top of that, the amount of shit he wasted is disgusting. This Isabelle girl took seventeen pregnancy tests. Seventeen! Are you kidding me?” Negan huffed as he grabbed the chair from your desk and pulled it up to your bed side.

“Well she’s fucking dead and now you’re in charge of the clinic so you can make your own damn rules.” You nodded as you grabbed the next paper and squinted your eyes to try to find a name. “So we’re moving your clinic to a bigger room at the end of this hall for all you’ve fucking pulled off. Make it a little easier on you so you’re not going up and down the fucking stairs all the time, too.” You looked up at him as you set the paper down on Sherry’s pile and cocked your eyebrow. “We grabbed a bed from the fuckin’ hospital and one of those fuckin’ reclining chairs. That and the exam table you got gives you an actual fuckin’ hospital center.” You smiled at him and said a genuine ‘thank you’ but he brushed you off as he pulled something out of his pocket.

“I had the crew put all the shit in there for you to fuckin’ organize how you want it. I know how doctors are about their shit. Here’s the keys. You got the only copies to the med cart we grabbed but I have a copy to the lock we snagged off one of the fuckin’ doors at that second place.” You glanced at the keys in your hand and paused a bit as you saw not only your motorcycle keys but the hand made ‘I love you more’ keychain from Mike’s keyring.

“Damn.” You whispered as you brushed your thumb over your sister’s handwriting. You looked up at him with tears in your eyes and nodded. “Thank you.” He nodded his head as he reached out and gently placed his hand on your right thigh.

“I don’t know what the fuck it is about you, baby girl. But you make me wanna break all my own fucking rules.” You huffed a laugh as you jostled the keys in your hand before putting them on your bedside table.

“Oh yea? Like what?” He smirked and shrugged as he massaged his thumb into your thigh.

“Well… had any other prick pulled the stunts you did today and they’d fucking meet Lucille.” Your eyebrows flew to your hair line as he studied your face for your reaction. “The bat.” You pursed your lips and nodded slowly as he continued. “You going on a fucking run… no one gets to just fucking do it. But I fucking let you and I have no fucking idea why I did.”

“Usually it’s because people feel sorry for me because I’m missing a leg.” You said simply with a shrug as you looked down at his hand on your thigh. “So don’t beat yourself up over that shit.” You met his eyes again and you could see him slowly accepting your ‘get out of jail’ card.

“Yea… yea, you must be right.” You nodded at him again as he pulled his hand back to his lap. The two of you stayed quiet for a moment before he cleared his throat. “Well anyways, you’re getting a fucking crew. Get your shit settled, figure out what you have and what you still fucking need. Dwight, Laura, and Gary are yours when they ain’t out with me. You get two trips a month; I can’t fucking afford to lose another doctor and I can’t fucking afford them being gone more often.” You nodded your head as he stood up from the chair and headed toward the door. He hesitated for a moment before looking back at you. “Don’t fucking make me regret this.”

——

“Any allergies that you know about?” You asked for what felt like the millionth time as you gave yet another person a quick physical in your new clinic. The man on your table shook his head as you checked his ears, nose and throat and tossed the cover into a box marked ‘clear’ so you could sterilize them and use them again in the future. You glanced up at him and as you ran your temple thermometer across his forehead. “Any pain, any bumps, or bruises? Scars, past surgeries, anything like that?” You glanced up at the man, who was focused solely on your exposed stump just like every other person you had had come in. With a sigh, you snapped your fingers in front of his face.

“Oh! Shit, sorry. No, no pain, surgeries or weird stuff.” You nodded as you entered in the information in his chart.

“Alright, we’re all set here. Nurse Lilo.” You turned to your daughter with a smile and she held up a lollipop with a smile of her own. The man huffed a laugh and took the offered treat on his way out the door. You let out a sigh as you watched him walk out.

“Mommy… why do they keep starin’ at you?” You saved the new chart quickly and looked up at your five year old with a smile.

“Because they are just curious, baby. They’ve never seen someone who was missing a leg before.” She nodded slowly as she tried to understand while you looked back at your list of people who lived at the Sanctuary you still needed to see.

“How come?” You looked up from your list, which now only consisted of Negan and Brenna, and sighed.

“How come what, sweetheart?” She looked up from your leg and searched your eyes.

“How come they wanna make you feel bad for being different?” You smiled at your little girl, who was too pure for this world, and scooted over to where she was sitting on the big chair from the hospital.

“Because they just don’t get that it can be hurtful. But you have to remember… we can’t control other people. So we just have to ignore them when they’re being rude and hurtful, right?” She nodded at you as you reached out and booped her nose before scooting back over to sanitize your table.

“You’re a good mom.” Negan said softly as he came into the clinic. You looked up at him with a  genuine smile and nodded.

“Thanks. I see you got my message to come see me when you got back?” He huffed a laugh and nodded as you scooted away from the end of the exam table.

“That I did. The fuck do you got for me, doc?” You smiled at him, actually glad he had made it back after his two week excursion to who knows where.

“Physical exam. Take a seat. Nurse Lilo?” Your little girl jumped off the chair and went over to close the door.

“The arm squeezer.” She said as she came over to do her portion of the exam. You helped her up onto your lap as Negan took a seat on your exam table. Brenna got a stern look on her face as you handed her the blood pressure cuff. “Arm please.” Negan chuckled as he took off his ever present leather jacket and offered up his arm while Brenna looked for the little arrow on the blue fabric.

“Line it up with the middle.” You reminded her as you pulled your stethoscope from around your neck. Your patient sat very still as you helped your little helper tighten the cuff around his muscular arm. You put your stethoscope in your ears and set the diaphragm in the crook of his arm as you handed her the pump. 

“Only to one-six-zero.” You reminded her as you clipped the gauge onto the holder and put your hand over hers. Negan watched as Brenna pumped with all her might to get the red line to hit 160 like she was supposed to. She smiled proudly when it finally made it and pulled her hands out from under yours so you could get an accurate reading. You glanced at your watch and could almost hear her whispered counting as you got the systolic and diastolic numbers.

“What’s your count, nurse?” You asked with one more glance at your watch as you let the rest of the air out of the bladder and took off your stethoscope.

“Four.” You nodded at her proudly as you put the blood pressure cuff on the counter and grabbed your tablet.

“What was she counting?” Negan asked as Brenna stood on the rolling stool with a foot on either side of your left thigh and held onto your pony tail for balance.

“Your respirations in fifteen seconds. Now, if you don’t mind, we have to take your pulse.” Negan laughed and nodded.

“Well who the fuck am I to stand in the way of my beautiful doctors?”

“Mommy…” Brenna giggled and you smirked and nodded.

“Yep, Negan says the very bad word a lot.” You watched his cheeks pink the slightest bit as you guided Brenna’s hand to the pulse point in Negan’s neck which was easier for her to feel.

“Sorry.” He said, receiving a glare from Brenna as you put her fingers on his jugular while yours went to the pulse point on his wrist.

“You gots be quiet!” She said to him. “I gots to count.” Negan put on a stern face and zipped his lips as you glanced at your watch.

“Ready?” You asked as you wrapped your arm around her middle so she wouldn’t fall over. “Go.” You forced yourself to tune out her out loud counting, which had gotten a lot better since she started counting people’s pulse a couple weeks before. She did mess up when she hit the teens but you knew she still needed a little more practice with those. “Time.”

“Good job, little doc.” Negan said as he held up his hand for a high five. Brenna hit it as hard as she could and he playfully shook his hand as if he was hurt. “Well daaa….ng, little one. You’re really strong!” She giggled and nodded her head as she sat back down on your legs. “What’s next?”

“Flexes.” She said as you placed a small rubber hammer in her hand and held on to it. “Now this could hurt.” She said sternly as she looked up at him. He nodded and furrowed his brow.

“Ok. I’m ready.” You guided Brenna’s hand and let her tap his knee. Negan, being the good sport he was, kicked his leg out a little dramatically and feigned shock. “Whoa! That’s never done that before! How did you do that?”

“Um…” Brenna said as you shifted her to your other thigh. “It’s a doctor secret so I can’t tell you.” You and your patient both fought to hold back your laugh as she did his other knee, receiving the same result.

“Alright, nurse. Your job here is done for now. Go prepare for your next part. This is our super special patient so you better pick the best one you got.” You said as she handed you the hammer and climbed off your lap. She nodded frantically as she climbed onto her chair and started digging through the bag of slightly stale lollipops for what she thought was the best one for her patient.

“So how am I, doc?” He asked as you added the data to his chart.

“Blood pressure’s normal. Pulse is a little high but it’s not concerning.” He nodded at you as you grabbed your stethoscope and moved your chair to stand up at his side. “Deep breath.” Negan let you finish you exam quietly but you couldn’t help but notice that he was constantly watching you unlike your other patients, who were simply watching your leg dangle. As you wrapped up your exam and asked him the standard general knowledge questions, you sat back down on your stool and smiled. “Well, you seem to be all good in my book.”

“Well that is great to hear.” He said as he put his jacket back on. “Is there anyone here that we need to be concerned about that you didn’t already know about?” You sat back in your chair as you finished inputting the last bit of info into his chart and your brow furrowed.

“Well… um let’s see.” You set your tablet down and looked up at the ceiling to recall the past two weeks of patients. “We have one woman that has severe arthritis but she refuses to leave the garden and I think her husband is in the early, early stages of Alzheimer’s so I’m gunna have to keep an eye on him. I’m gunna try to give Cam a prosthetic but Carson did a great job of butchering his stump so I don’t know if I’ll be able to without causing his nerves unnecessary pain. And other than a pregnancy test for one of those ladies in mourning, everyone was more interested in my stump then…”

“What the fuck did you just say?” You looked over at him and your brow furrowed.

“Which part?”

“Who took the fucking pregnancy test?”

“Oh!” You said as you grabbed your tablet and pulled up the chart, not realizing what you had just done. “Shit which one was… oh here it is. Amber. It came back negative but she was still crying so…” Negan nodded slowly as he pulled a leather glove out of his jacket pocket.

“Thank you. I’m gunna need you down in the fucking hall when you’re done in here. Take Brenna down to the day care first.” You nodded at him slowly as he stood up from the exam table and headed toward the door.

“Wait, your medicine!” Brenna called as she slid off the chair and ran over to him with the lollipop in her hand. He smiled at her as he crouched down at her side.

“Thank you Doctor Lilo. You did a great job today, princess.” She blushed violently as he ruffled her hair and stood back up. “Don’t be long, doc. I don’t like to wait.” You nodded at his back as you closed out Amber’s file and turned off your tablet.

“Alright, B. Let’s get you down to day care so mommy can figure out what’s going on.”

Part 3

[allofthisnonsenseplease]

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 https://twitter.com/meatmanxiv/status/917182095000084481 WE NEED TO DISCUSS LOL

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 yeah i just saw that. XD What the fuck??

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 Gabe is a wraith living off souls and shit and one of the ways he finds victims is via grindr. until one day he matches with Jack Morrison.

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 omg. yes. pls. holy shit. Jack is too pathetic. Gabe needs healthy souls. Gotta get Jack to love life again before Gabe can devour his essence.

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 LOLL Gabe has never met anyone as sad as Jack. He just wants to take him home and feed him soup

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 he grumbles about what Jack has reduced him to. Gabe: nine hundred years and i've never seen such a sad fuckin' soul-- Jack: What was that? Gabe: I SAID EAT YOUR DAMN CHICKEN SOUP.

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 LOLLLL Jack just shrugs and asks if this means they can have another round Gabriel is groaning into his hands

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 he wishes he'd just been born an incubus. THEY don't have to work nearly as hard. Oooh...what if he was using Jack as bait, tho? like stalking him to get the guys Jack hooked up with?

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 oooooooooo

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 i don't actually have anything else for that, i've just gotten into the habit of sending you every dumb thought that crosses my mind when we chat about these idiots XD

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 XDDD omg Gabe is following Jack around (unbeknownst to Jack), waiting until he's done hooking up and then sucking out souls, and then one day Jack's hookup crosses a line with Jack and gabe steps in and murders the guy before he can think about it

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 !! <3 Jack gives him a look, and it's the closest Gabe's ever been to him and fuck Jack looks so exhausted. Gabe's cold, dead heart actually goes out to him. 'Thanks, I guess,' Jack says. Like he doesn't really care.

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 QOQ

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 Alarm bells go off in Gabe's head. Humans are supposed to care about seeing other humans murdered in front of them. 'Are...you...okay...?' The question comes out irredeemibly awkward, and Gabe winces.

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 LOL AWWW GABE

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 Jack just stares at him. Looks down at his blood-splattered clothes. Looks back up and shrugs. 'Could use a shower.'

'My place isn't far.' Gabe is offering before he knows what he's doing. 'Come with me?'

Another shrug. 'Sure.'

Jack follows him all too easily. It scares Gabe a little. He kills humans to live. He just killed in front of this one. Jack's calm puts him on edge.

Still, he owes Jack. He's been taking his sustenance with Jack's unwitting help for months.

Among Gabe's kind, a debt is a serious thing.

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 omg this is so sad but so soft somehow

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 again, the fluffy and horrifying monster AU no one asked for XD

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 :DD Jack curls up in the corner of Gabe's old couch and makes his huge form seem tiny. He's shivering and Gabe is wracking his brain for how to take care of a human Soup right? Cold humans like hot soup???

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 Tea, Gabe. Humans like tea. X''''''D

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 He tells Jack to stay there and makes a visit to a corner store XDD Gabe doesn't have anything for humans

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 Everything should like tea. -'.'-

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 He buys a bunch of cans of soup and some kind of tea?? supplies??? chamomile is calming right???? Jack is in exactly the same place when he returns

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 the little daisies on the box remind him of Jack, so he gets it.

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 Awwwwwww Except when he looks closer he realizes Jack's dozed off

He decides to let Jack rest while he figures out how to use the dusty kitchen he's never touched before

Halfway through he realizes cold sleeping humans probably like blankets and drapes one over Jack

Jack wakes up pleasantly warm to low cursing coming from the next room over

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 omg. gabe. sweetie. it's canned soup, hon. there's instructions on the label. i bet he can't work the stove, or doesn't have any pots. i bet he tried to cook the soup in the can and caught the lable on fire

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 LOLL Jack shuffles in with the blanket wrapped around him, all bleary eyed and yawning, and is like "what the fuck are you doing"

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 I'M MAKING YOU SOUP WHAT THE FUCK DOES IT-- deep breaths. supposed to be helping. soothing. shouting is not soothing.

Gabe burying his frustration at losing to canned soup.

'I'm not good at cooking.'

Jack looks over the mess and the only possible menu before meeting Gabe's eyes again. 'You fucking suck at it.' He shoulders him aside. 'Get out. I'll do it.'

((wow what an ass lol))

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 omg >w< but there's no heat in it, despite the force. Gabriel hovers over his shoulder, watching quietly

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 watching. learning.

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 XDDDD

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 XD Gabe you inept fucking mess of a soul-eating murderous demon

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 Jack's eyes keep falling shut for a longer amount of time than a blink and yawning and gabe can't help but think it's cute >w<

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 Gabe he's going to pass out on the stove and burn his face off. lol Gabe having to catch him by the shoulders bc he thinks Jack's about to do just that. And Jack just looks abck over his shoulder at him and waits for the silence to get uncomfortable enough for Gabe to let him go.

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 fkandjacka And Jack just seems so hollow and apathetic about even that and gabe just. Needs to make him feel better somehow

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 Jack sitting slumped in the blanket on Gabe's couch with his serving of soup poured back into the can bc Gabe doesn't have any fucking dishes, and he just comes right out with 'so i guess i'm probably not here waiting my turn to be murdered?'

Gabe: No. You were just so pathetic that I had to--

Jack: The guy who tries to make soup with no bowls and no concept of making soup does not get to call me pathetic.

It's almost a spark of life. Gabe clings to that small hope.

so is Jack clinically depressed, or did something happen to him to fuck him up?

like, did something else pull out his soul and seal it away? did he leave pieces of himself with everyone Gabe came after and they got eaten up before they could make it back to him so now he's all worn thin?

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 oooo I like the idea of something sealing away part of his soul also!! Return of slug Jack!!!!!!! He curls up in the ratty blanket on the couch and just passes tf out, refusing to be moved

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 !!!!!! I LOVE SLUG JACK =D

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 ME TOO

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 Jack: just let me watch jersey shore Gabe: JUST BECAUSE I EAT SOULS DOESN'T MEAN I'M THAT MUCH OF A MONSTER

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 LOL

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 Gabe ends up watching netflix on the couch with Jack all weekend, ordering take out every now and again to keep him fed.

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 HAHA he has no concept of how many times a human needs to eat and Jack doesn't really have an appetite, just eats as a chore, so

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 Jack is like 'jesus are you trying to tell me i need to fill out 'cause i know my ass is a bit flat but fuck you'

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 LOLLL

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 there's gotta be, like, a cursed object in his apartment that's been stealing his soul bit by bit or something, and a few days in Gabe's company sorta stabilizes him somehow.

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 omg awwww

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 'cause otherwise he's REALLY FUCKING BROKEN AND I DON'T KNOW IF WE COULD MANAGE A HAPPY ENDING

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 LOL just being taken care of and being loved starts bringing him back he's still pretty lethargic but he starts being able to hold a conversation he gets really attached to the blanket though like refuses to unwrap it

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 by day three does Gabe pick up the whole stinky bundle of unwashed human and blanket and just dump the whole thing in the tub?

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 LOLL Jack kicks weakly and whines that he was watching something but ultimately submits Gabe at least knows how to wash a human He dumps some shampoo on Jack's head and gets scrubbing Jack bats at his hand and is like "I can wash myself god" but Gabe grumbles "I don't trust you"

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 'You couldn't make soup.' 'You can't use that against me for everything.'

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 LOL Once Gabe is satisfied that Jack is clean, Jack gets out of the tub and bundles up in a towel like it's his new blanket but Gabe is still caught on oh my god wait he was really hot like naked and dripping hold on

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 X'''D really Gabe? hot? not 'pathetic angry soaked cat'? hot is what we're going with here?

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 XDDD As soon as Jack bundled back up, it's back to soaked cat

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 lol

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 but come on man. The boobs out in the open Gabe is helpless

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 okay okay. fair enough. so. consider. Gabe eventually hooks up with Jack. Jack does increasingly better as he stays away from whatever was draining him. BUT. Eventually Jack finds out about what Gabe is and what he was doing. He adds 2 and 2 together to get 58 and thinks that Gabe was nursing him back to health in order to prostitiute him out again for easy meals.

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 oh my god Jack XDDDD so has our slug jack developed Feelings for gabriel before he comes up with the silly idea that gabe is using him

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 yes, bc Feelings will make it more painful for him. :D

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 awwww imagine the first time gabe sees slug jack actually blush >w<

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 !!!!!! >w<

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 omg but jack all snuggled in his blanket with his cheek smushed into gabe's thigh and gabe is just kinda absentmindedly petting his messy hair and then he says something about jack being cute and jack doesn't react at all except that suddenly gabe realizes his cheeks and ears are red

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 Gabe honestly not knowing why that earned such a reaction

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 OMG especially since jack like. didn't even make a face or anything just suddenly he's all flushed. gabe thinks he's just overheating at first

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 oh noes! XD

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 gabe is worried about his human!! does he need a cold cloth or something?? he is wrapped in very many blankets.... but when gabe tries to move to do something about it, jack just kinda fishes out a hand from the bundle and presses down on gabe's knee

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 ohhhhhhhhhhh~! -^^-

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 >w< gabe thinks he hears jack mumble "don't move" jack's eyes flicker open to slits and he turns just enough to give gabe a sleepy look and then he goes back to dozing

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 omg. XD i kinda like low energy state asshole Jack

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 me too XDDD let him be lazy and a little dumb

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 hooray!

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 BUT BC HE'S KINDA DUMB HE COMES UP WITH THAT SILLY IDEA THAT GABE IS USING HIM then slug jack goes into defensive mode

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 i'm imagining him angrily scooting away on his tummy, still cocooned in blankets XD

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 LMAO that's a good image ahaha

jack's like starting to think he really likes living with gabe. it's been a long time since he like actually cared about anything. it's nice.... gabe is warm. he still gets shivers but he isn't nearly so cold all the time.

and then somehow, how they met comes up as a topic of conversation

and maybe gabe asks jack if he's planning on going back to that eventually

he adds lightly that it did nab him a lot of easy meals, but....

jack doesn't understand the "but" XDD

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 oh jack still tho Gabe. XD you should've KNOWN better!

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 XDDD Jack retreats into his bundle, another round of shivers hitting him instantly

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 ohhhhhhh noooooooooooooo

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 I mean in his mind, why else would Gabe have spared him?

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 yeah ._. that was the plan the horrible, horrible plan Jack calling Gabe a parasite

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 NOOOO

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 WELL I MEAN

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 Jack musters up the energy to go back to his own apartment He leaves while Gabe is off somewhere else And Gabe comes back and Jack is just.... gone. For seemingly no reason. He gets super worried. Did someone take Jack???

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 He's been Jacknapped! but omg, Gabe not being able to convince Jack to come back with him, and Jack stays in his own apartment long enough for whatever's fucking him up to knock him on his ass again, and he just doesn't put two and two together, thinks it's regular depression, thinks it's because he's a fucking moron who thought Gabe actually might like him as if anyone could! And Gabe keeps coming around or watching, but he doesn't catch on until it's almost too late.

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 QOQ Jack is like lying on the floor staring at the ceiling and whatever this thing is keeps whispering to him how easy it would be to just give up

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 aaaaaaaaa what if it's something that can't kill, only drain, and to get teh last drops of a person's life, they have to take it themselves

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 qOq the only reason Jack's lasted this long is bc he's too lazy to get up and actually do it

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 XD i prolly shouldn't've laughed at that so, does gabe have superhuman senses to go along with being a demon? like, can he sense it if Jack's gone and done something rash? OR, does he finally realize that there's something malignant in Jack's apartment? what if he has to be INVITED in and that's why he went after all of Jack's weird, semi-public hookups?

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 LMAO also that makes sense Oh god how will he save jack

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 it might be that if the thing is banished, killed, or sealed, it's victim goes back to normal

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 But how can Gabe get in!!

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 oh. haha fuck :D maybe Jack actually tries to off himself and gets carted off to the hospital and Gabe goes to see him there and won't leave his side and Jack slowly starts feeling better away from home

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 But he IS home qwq bc Gabe is there QwQ

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 the cursed object reminds me of this XD

hospitals are not home idc how much in love they are there are NEEDLES there

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 LOLL @ both those things

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 brb--need sweets :E

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 fair XD Jack wakes up in the hospital bed and without the soul-sucking curse, the very real terror of death hits him all at once and he just kinda crumbles in front of Gabe It's the most emotion Gabe's ever seen out of him and it's the most visceral sensation Jack's experienced in awhile. it's scary for everyone involved.

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 ahhhh ;-; Jack is still trying to rationalize it bc of course Gabe hasn't had a chance to explain so he still thinks that Gabe was only using him and he's torn between being grateful that Gabe did something to save him, and hurt bc he still thinks he's just a meal ticket

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 QOQ and he also has no idea why everything feels so intense all of a sudden

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 you got your Feelin' Bits back, Jackie! :D

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 XDD that sounds dirty

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 lol

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 but yeah everything's been dulled out for so long for him and when he was with Gabe, it had been coming back slowly but then of course all that progress was lost and then some and when the cursed thing was destroyed it all came back to him at once and it's So Much he's so cold and it feels like the air is on fire when it touches his skin

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 sex is going to kill him

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 LOLLL OMG

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 quick question. now that Jack is once again capable of giving a fuck, how are we going to resolve the teensy weensy moral dilemma of Gabe's whole eating people's souls gig? like. not to derail where you were going.

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 LMAO

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 but that should prolly be addressed at some point. XD

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 XDDDD

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 oh. wouldn't that be sad? if they loved each other, but Jack wasn't willing to overlook what Gabe was?

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 NOOOOO that would hurt Gabe so much QOQ he's a gentle monster omg what if Gabe like dedicated himself to turning himself human

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 what if Gabe stopped eating souls for Jack and starved to death?

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 OH MY GOD DUDE WHY

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 shrug emoji XD WE MADE HIM A PEOPLE-EATING MONSTER THERE ARE GONNA BE ISSUES HERE We could change it--make him something that feeds off of energy, and he enjoys the potency of sexual energy. Doesn't have to participate--just needs to be nearby. SOmething similar to what was eating Jack lol But after he and Jack get together, Gabe feeds from Jack consensually and makes sure to give him plenty of time to recover. EXCEPT NOW IT'S VAMPIRES AGAIN SHIT

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 LMAO XDDD

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 hell, maybe Gabe eats the thing that was eating Jack and it had glutted itself on way more humans than it needed and now he's good to go for a century or so

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 lolll that works too Either way Jack is finally back to normal and despite being a naturally sluggish person, Gabe is delighted to see him emote

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 so has Gabe gone this entire time not realizing he loves Jack? And it isn't until Jack asks him why he's there that Gabe--scrambling to explain--realizes with a slight shock that he loves Jack?

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 OMGGGG GABE IS A SOFT GENTLE MONSTER IN LOVE Gabe kinda fumbles out that he really really likes Jack DOES JACK BELIEVE HIM THOUGH

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 hell no. not at first, anyway I don't know how Gabe would prove it, tho

like, maybe he asks Jack what he can do to prove he means it, and Jack responds with a flat 'fuck me.' and Gabe hesitates, bc he does actually want to--holy shit, he really wants to--but there's something not right here. He asks Jack what that would prove, and Jack's just 'well, if you don't really want me...' And Gabe is like. 'No. Wait. Stop. I know manipulation when I hear it. Come home with me, Jack. Let me take care of you. We can talk about this later, when you're well again. Until then...until then, just let me watch over you, and if you never want to see me again afterward, then...then....'

'then you'll disappear?'

Gabe nods, and he looks so crushed by the idea that Jack feels his heart clench in his chest.

'all right. they're letting me out soon. take me home.'

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 SKANDKANSNXA AWWWWWWW GABE AND HIS BLEEDING HEART Jack finds himself perched on Gabe's couch yet again and gabe immediately brings out the blanket for him

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 <3<3<3

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 Jack feels kinda awkward all of a sudden but he is cold. He accepts the blanket and drapes it over his shoulders He burrows into the blanket but. He really wants to be held.

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 oh god. Jack just curling up on the couch and wanting to be held so bad and he's so cold and so tired and he just starts crying and Gabe panics and kneels down on the floor in front of him and he's asking what's wrong and what should he do and what does Jack need, and his hands are hovering, not touching bc he doesn't want to invade Jack's space or anything and jack was so strange earlier in the hospital and now this...and Jack just lurches forward against him and Gabe instinctively wraps his arms around Jack. Over the course of Jack sobbing and trying to get closer, he slides gracelessly off the couch in an extended drop, and Gabe just keeps adjusting his hold, and gathers him up until he's cradling Jack on his lap between his chest and the front of the couch and Jack is just clinging to him and the blanket and crying.

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 OMG QOQ he's mortified that he's breaking down like this but he can't stop it It's been building for so long Gabriel holds him tight, shushing him softly >w< Gabe eventually moves them over to the bed and Jack falls asleep in his arms >w<

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 >u< Gabe wakes up before Jack, of course. He looks at him, takes in the circles beneath his eyes and the exhausted lines carved into his pallid skin, and his heart lurches with the need to protect. He had thought to get up and make Jack breakfast, but he can't bring himself to leave him alone, so he curls a bit tighter around him and kisses his hair and lets himself drift off again.

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 AWWWWWWW Jack becomes a happy slug Gabe loses it when he sees Jack grin and laugh

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 Gabe: WaIT WAIT!! I need--the thing you humans use to make pictures of memories!!

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 AWWWWW GABE GETS A PHONE JUST TO TAKE PICTURES when he realizes he can Call Jack and hear his voice WHENEVER in REAL TIME he fuckin LOSES IT

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 XD omg Jack just starts getting all sorts of random calls from Gabe, and he'll pick up, and Gabe will be silent at the other end. and when Jack prompts him '...did you need something?' 'um. not...not really. just wanted to say hi.' 'Hi.' '....hi?' 'Gabe.'

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 AKDKAKDSKXJS A CUTE AWKWARD SOFT BOY

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 Gabe calling Jack from a different room while they're both home, and Jack just comes in and fixes him with this flat stare, and Gabe has a million watt grin on his face

Gabe discovering the joys of bubble baths and singing in the tub with Jack sat between his legs, skin all slick with soap and hot water. They don't even get up to anything, Gabe just helps him scrub and belts out songs he's learned from watching musicals and Jack soaks in the warmth and contact.

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 AWWWWWWWWW Slug Jack loves hot baths XDDDD I'm caught on slug Jack slumped against Gabe in a hot hot bath, comfy and warm and dozing off

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 yes PLEASE brb again

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 <33333 Just kinda drops his head into the crook of Gabe's neck, molded into the curve of his body, and gabe realizes after a bit that he's snoring

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 aaaaaaaaaaa~! <3<3<3 this one started out so sad and awful and it's gotten so soft i love it! ;u;

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 RIGHT omg Unlike Jack's DICK XDDDD heeeeeeee I love slug Jack being a quiet but demanding pillow princess

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 XD W O W but pls go on about that last bit. OuO

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 LOL

He's all snuggled up against Gabe's chest and gabe kisses his neck and Jack tugs at his arm until Gabe rolls them over, Jack on his back and gabe on top of him

Gabe fits so perfectly between Jack's legs

Jack refuses to let him move, wants Gabe's weight pressing him down

Gabe spoils him with kisses all over his face and neck, never going too low or else he'll have to move and Jack can't have that ahaha

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 lol jack gets pampered

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 Jack likes it best when Gabe can just slide right into him but he'll tolerate some fingers Slug Jack doesn't go for fast and rough he likes getting thoroughly and deliberately wrecked until he's boneless and overwhelmed

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 oh my yes >u< it's a good thing Gabe isn't human, 'cause slug Jack is gonna try his endurance

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 yes he is @ the endurance slug Jack barely has it in him to frame Gabe's waist with his knees, doesn't bother hooking his legs around him or even wrapping his arms around Gabe's neck, just curls his hands next to his head under the pillow his eyes are closed for the most part, only opens them to slits

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 i feel like slug jack would enjoy the bondage thing with all the knots, but i also feel like it would be sort of pointless lol

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 XDDDD Gabe can do anything he wants to slug Jack but like. what's the point when the only thing that gets a response is fucking him hard and deep

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/10/2017 slug Jack on Gabe's lap, draped over his shoulders as Gabe rocks up into him

firesonic152 - 10/10/2017 EEEEE and Jack never asks for it in words. He always rolls into Gabe's lap and starts grinding against him lazily or bites at his neck in just the right way